Parashat Bereshit
Where Are You?
This week's portion calls for dialogue and accountability.
By Rabbi Elliot Rose Kukla
This
commentary is provided by special arrangement with American Jewish World
Service. To learn more, visit www.ajws.org.
When I was five years old, I developed a bad habit. My Jewish family
was involved with a Tibetan Buddhist Temple, and while the adults were inside
in silent meditation, I would occasionally sneak out to the lawn and ring the
large ceremonial gong that was used to rouse the entire Temple into action.
This problem came to the attention of the Rinpoche, the spiritual leader of the
Temple, and he asked to speak to the small, chubby gong-ringer. I was braced to
be humiliated by this religious authority figure. But the Rinpoche gently told
me that the key to growing up is figuring out when to ring the gong and when to
respect the silence.
Years
later, even after rabbinical school, this simple teaching remains one of the
most influential religious lessons that I have ever received. Parashat Bereshit teaches that within the very fabric of
creation there are moments for silence, space,
and rejuvenation. We imitate God when we rest on Shabbat because "God blessed the seventh day and called it
holy, because on it God ceased all the work of creation."
At
the same time, the parashah teaches that
failing to sound a gong when the situation calls for it is a grave error. There
are moments when we must call attention to the state of our world, when we must
rouse people into action to change the world.
Causes for Concern
In
the 20th century, child
mortality rates dropped significantly in almost every country. This decline has been attributed to advances
in immunizations, nutrition, and
rehydration therapy. These advances did not happen naturally; they grew out of
prolonged gong-ringing, tireless action,
and advocacy by people all over the world--doctors
and philanthropists, politicians and scientists. But our work is not done.
Over
the past year, nearly three million people world-wide have died of AIDS. Over
850 million people around the world deal with food scarcity. And the U.S. has
once again failed to meet the recommendations of debt forgiveness for the
Heavily Indebted Poor Countries (HIPC) Initiative set by the World Bank in
1996.
As
we begin the Torah again this week, these are some of the challenges we
confront.
Bereshit and Beyond
In
Parashat Bereshit, the adam, the first human creature, eats a
fruit from the forbidden Tree of Knowledge. Afterwards, he is ashamed and he
hides behind a tree in the Garden of Eden. God
calls out to him, "Ayekah?--Where are you?"
The
medieval commentator Rashi notes that an omniscient God would have known where
the adam was physically located, so God's
question must not be a query for information. Instead, it represents a call for
dialogue and accountability.
Like
so many of us, the first human answers by evading responsibility for his
actions and pointing to someone else's
mistake: "The woman you put at my side,"
he says, "she gave me of the tree and I ate." As descendants of the adam, we have the opportunity, and in
fact the responsibility, to not make the same mistake.
The
temptation to blame others is enormous, but it is a temptation that this parashah clearly condemns. As we hear the
question "Ayekah?" read from the scroll, we can hear it as
a gong being rung--a call to respond to God's
question by taking responsibility for where we
are in this new Year of 5768. How will we respond to the call this year? How
will we call attention to our collective responsibility to ensure universal
human dignity? How will we advocate for change?
There
are times for each of us to sit in silent meditation. And then there are
moments to act.
5768
is a time for gong-ringing. This year is a time to rouse our family, friends,
lovers, and elected
officials from their silence. God is the one who "rings
a gong" in the
beginning of the Torah by calling out to the first human being. In the coming
year may we have the audacity to both respond to God and to imitate God. May we
shake up the complacency that surrounds us by calling out to each other: "Where are you?" What are you doing to change the world?
Rabbi Elliot
Rose Kukla is an activist, writer, organizer, and educator.